Forever After May Live the Everafters
by RhymerII
Summary: Everyone knows the Everafter War started at the whim of the Scarlett Hand, and has left a destructive path over a now demolished Ferryport Landing, but Sabrina has her hardened heart set on changing that...and finding her best friend.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer; I may have the same name as a famous writer, but I did not write the Sisters Grimm, nor do I own them.**

Prologue

"Really, how hard is it to alert the man in charge? I'm not asking for you to pull out an AK47 or transform into a ninja. I'm asking for you to turn yourself around and do what you do best. RUN."

"Yeah, I- I know-"

"No, obviously, you _don't_ know, because if you did, you'd be kicking up dust right now. If you had any sense, if you truly _understood_ the severity of the situation, you would be following my orders and warning Charming's division about-"

" Get down!"

Usually, I don't take orders from anybody, but if you heard the shrill, keening call of a deadly missile aimed in your direction, what would be your first reaction? Yeah. _Get down_.

Dozens of bodies hit the worn, wooden floor with a thump. A few of them got up, but not many. I faced the unlucky ones with a bitter expression. These were my men, and hardly any of them were alive, much less fit to fight. If I had it my way, it'd be me and Mirror, hand-to-hand combat. No magic, no weaponry. By now, I could kill him. Not just from anger, but because I had gotten stronger. None of these Scarlett Hand fools had the raw skill that I did. My work is not tainted by the use of magic wands, or control over dangerous creatures like the Jabberwocky. I could take any fine-tuned wet-work artist with nothing but the plastic end of a shoe string. Actually, I could take about forty of them with nothing at all.

"Ma'am. Um…Ms. Grimm?" whispered the young soldier to my right. He tapped my shoulder.

"What?" I mumbled, not really looking at him.

The soldier's Adam's apple bobbed nervously. "Well, the last time I talked to Charming, he said he was going to pull us out. He said we were losing too many without taking down any numbers in the Hand."

"What? We've taken out plenty! What did you tell him?" The boy backed up.

"I- I told him that it was…uh.." he was sweating now.

I took hold of his shirt collar. "What, boy, what did you say to him?"

"I told him it was a good idea."

So, the boy had the right idea. To be afraid, that is.

Before the wild wind above our fort had moved another strand of blonde hair into my face, the soldier was horizontal on a broken table.

"Well, then," I said sweetly to the boy, "Why don't you go tell our dear friend that we won't pull out until every single one of us is rotting in the ground."

His face crumpled. Wincing as he stood up, he replied, "Yes, ma'am."

I turned away from his limping figure to stare out at the dreary scene before me. Great clouds of smoke, like a thunderstorm from Hell, filling every pothole of the dead land, were the only things moving. But I knew there were people there. Not people, exactly, but living creatures that thirsted for destruction and blind revenge. Nasty little things that dreamt of the death of me and my family. They were the enemy. They were the ones that caused the separation of me and my parents, and more importantly, the disappearance of my dearest friend. They had terrorized us for seven years now. _They _were the Scarlett Hand.

And this disturbing, eerie _place_ is the battlefield of the Everafter War.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer; I do not own the Sisters Grimm, but I would totally fight Michael Buckley in an epic Star Trek style battle to gain them…just kidding…don't hurt me, Michael Buckley.**

Chapter 1 - Unidentified

If I had a nickel for every time someone came through the doors of the make-shift Everafter hospital tent, wailing and moaning, bandaged up on a stretcher…I could buy us out of this war. Unfortunately, we're broke, just like all the other good guys that gave up their jobs so none of the blissfully unaware humans know what's going on here in Ferryport Landing. Hopefully -soon- they'll never have to, and we can forget it ever happened…not that we'd be able to forget the dead soldiers, or the missing relatives, or all the innocent mortals that went down with the barrier. Keeping the Scarlett Hand contained may be like trying to keep Hellhounds on a leash, but at least it keeps everyone's minds off of the "incident" a few weeks ago.

We thought we were reaching the climax of the war. We thought that if we gave our best for just a few more days, the weaker troops of the Hand would back down, and from there they would diminish in numbers. Yet, our best wasn't good enough. The climax came to an end, alright. But not before the Hand took out an entire fleet of Charming's army. They were mostly rookies and trainees. Some of them were even Rogues, Hand members that came to our side. One of them was Puck. Disgusting, arrogant, and obnoxious as he may be, he was the person I could lean on when the madness of despair had infected everyone else. He had become my go-to guy, and when he had told me that even he was feeling like there was no hope, we had a knock-down, drag-out fight about it. Somewhere in the middle of this, I told him that I care about him more than I let on. Of course he mocked me for it, but at least it kept a smile on his face. I'd rather have him mock me than never see him again. I can admit that now. Now that he's gone.

They said that there's a chance that he's alive. They said they never found his body, but I can feel this empty place inside that I didn't even know existed. When I think about him, I can feel that emptiness take a deep breath and expand, and the only remedy is to construct a sturdy wall all around that vulnerable spot. It makes me cold, and no one can look at me anymore without seeming to be disappointed with this "new me"… but it's a survival technique. I pray that my loved ones never have to learn it.

Once I exited denial and accepted that I will never be able to rely on my former hero again, I started to stick up for myself. I picked fights with others- it's not that hard to start something with the atmosphere in this place. I learned things that teenage girls never should, and eventually Charming took me into the battle hall and told me I was ready to have a weapon. It wasn't long after that Charming assigned me a rag-tag team of "soldiers".

Right now, there's no reasonable excuse for happiness. Nothing good has happened, and no one has the heart for a good joke. The Merry Men enjoy alcoholic beverages from time-to-time, but that never turns out well. No one ever thought one stranger with the weight of the world on his shoulders could change things for us. I guess we all assumed that things were so bad, the universe had decided to keep spinning that way, on the axel of misfortune, just to tick everybody off.

"Move, everybody out of the way!" shouted Nurse Sprat, now the head of the medical team. Several filthy-looking men –all about four feet high- rushed in, quickly tossed a stretcher on an only recently vacant operating table, and marched out of the tent. On the stretcher, sprawled out in a very undignified manner, was a young man that seemed to be having some sort of seizure. His body convulsed in the most unnerving way, and he let loose a gurgling sound before his eyes rolled back into his head. Sprat fussed over him until others came to assist her.

I watched all of this distantly until Sprat detached herself to sanitize her hands.

Approaching her, I asked, "How are my men?"

She looked to the floor, an uncharacteristic expression of regret aging her round face. "Ms. Grimm, I'm afraid none will be able to return."

I clenched my teeth, and turned towards the site of the unidentified man's treatment. We were silent for a few moments until Sprat shouted at one of the medical professionals to "please not do any experimental operations on him." I kept my arms crossed and my head down as I left the tent. Charming had gotten what he wanted. We were pulling out…because the "we" no longer exists.

The walk to the battle hall had become much longer as the camp expanded. Now, it wasn't just around the corner, it was practically halfway across Ferryport Landing. Perhaps Charming liked it that way, so that it was more difficult to "bother him". I made it a point at some time every week to stop by and say hello, for that very reason. Today, I would have a lot more to say than hello.

I had a speech ready. I wasn't going to shed any tears, I was going to tell Charming exactly what I thought of him and the rest of the idiots who are conducting this war.

I was confident and prepared. My bow and quiver were strapped to my back, and I had the power of raw anger to fuel my argument. I was going to win this one, no matter what he said.

But when I reached the heavy doors, crudely built of logs and scrap metal, I couldn't breathe. I shoved the doors open and stepped inside clumsily, trying to maintain the intimidating demeanor I had five minutes ago.

Snow White and Prince Charming loved each other. Everyone knew that. Of course, you would never guess when you walk in on the middle of an argument involving the war. This one was heated, I could tell. Snow looked more like fire, and Charming didn't look so…charming. Not with that scowl on his face. When they looked up, they knew from my expression that they couldn't kick me out. Not just yet.

Instead of the elaborate lecture I had planned, my voice grew weak and all I could say was, "My men are all gone."

I expected a sympathetic tilt of the head from Snow, and a snarl from Charming, but what I got was surprising.

"Yes, I heard," Charming replied. "I'm very sorry, I know you've become attached to them, however, it is the consequence of not being prepared."

My face grew hot and something inside me snapped. I marched right over to Charming, fists clenched, ready to say something about "preparation" when Snow intervened.

"We have another assignment for you," Snow said quietly, not exactly looking me in the eye. Before I could become completely outraged at the lack of sensitivity being displayed, Charming opened his big mouth again. God, I wish he'd stop doing that.

"There is a man the east troop discovered today. The purpose for this assignment is under wraps, but we trust that you'll handle this quietly. We need you to keep him completely safe. He is currently in critical condition due to blows by the Scarlett Hand, but we have word that he is recovering in the medical tent."

Somewhere in the haze of my anger, my mind flickered to the man having the seizure. I suppressed my urge to shout a string of profanities before I spoke again.

"Who exactly is he?" Charming began to say something about 'very important', but Snow cleared her throat and looked down at her hands folded on the table in front of her.

"He is…unidentified."


	3. Chapter 3

**Ladies and gentlemen, guess what! The name, Aric means "unknown" in Thai. You know what that means…**

**Disclaimer; Sadly, although me and Michael Buckley must have a special connection (I love his work), I do not own the Sisters Grimm. **

Chapter 3- News

I wish it didn't hurt so much to think about him. I wish I could avoid any thoughts of him, any memories, and be completely cold to anything that has to do with _him._ I have no idea what I did to deserve such a punishment, caring so much about someone so ignorant, and then having him swept away from me.

Puck- this stupid boy who had nearly ruined my childhood and _slaughtered_ any chance I had at normalcy- was the only person I regret losing. I prayed for my dead soldiers, and I wept for my family in New York, but the one thought that keeps me awake at night is of when Puck disappeared.

"_Good luck fighting this one without me, Grimm!" _He had called from his position in the mass of soldiers. Charming barked an order for him to keep quiet, and Puck –in character- rolled his eyes. I had my arms wrapped around myself to keep the cold away, because I didn't have a sweater. I hadn't thought to bring one as I'd ran out of my tent to meet him. He'd marched off without a word, strange for him. I had assumed that he'd at least get one statement of self-glorifying in before leaving, but he didn't even leave a note.

When he turned his head, out of synch with the other soldiers, he saw me standing alone, in the cold, while everyone else was sleeping. He winked and flashed a brief, mischievous grin before repeating his words, the last words I'd hear from him.

"Good luck fighting this one." I knew what he meant. Anyone else who may have heard would think he meant this fight in particular, the one against the Hand troops moving in from the west. But I knew that he meant the whole war, because he didn't expect to come back. The words couldn't bring tears to my eyes, the crying wouldn't hit me until after I went back to bed. I couldn't even respond to him, because I knew if I opened my mouth, I'd be yelling for him to turn around and come back. To abandon his men and put down his sword, but he wouldn't have, anyway. Despite his arrogant attitude, he was stubborn, and no one could tell him to back down from something he felt like fighting for. Maybe that's why he's been saving me all these years, talking big about all that I owed him, but never once hesitating to protect me, not even when it killed him.

And here I am, once again, standing alone, in the cold, thinking about what my words could have changed. If I had begged him, if I had threatened him with my own life, would he have stayed? But it's too late, and I have no one to ask for advice, because the one moral person who would keep my secrets safe had given his life in the murderous slaying of hundreds of men that had never done anything to deserve it. That's why I'm fighting. I don't strap the quiver to my back every morning because I feel like target practice, I do it for preparation.

Preparation for revenge.

My first thought when I woke up this morning was, "Gee, I sure hope I get to wring the neck of some traitorous Scarlett Hand soldier today!", but then I remembered…"Oh, yeah, my troops are dead or dying and I have to protect some 'important' moron that wandered into our camp."

Charming is so on my list.

I figured if I got to the medical tent quick enough, I could knock this guy out without anyone noticing, and just leave him there, doing something productive with my time. Unfortunately, by the time I reached that wing of the camp, he was up and moving around. Nurse Sprat had a hold of his arm, trying in vain to keep him from moving around too quickly. He just shook her off, jabbering happily with a big smile on his face, like waking up in the middle of Hell was so much fun. Sprat caught sight of me before I could duck behind a decrepit log structure, and gestured toward me, speaking to the young man.

He waved and began walking towards me, but stopped when I scowled and marched over to them.

"Morning, ma'am," I mumbled grumpily to Sprat. She nodded at me, and began introductions.

"Sabrina, this is Aric, Aric, this is Sabrina. She will be watching over you until your job is done, and then she'll escort you home," Sprat said quickly, anxious to return to her patients, I guess.

"Nice to meet you," Aric exclaimed excitedly, grabbing my hand, trying to give me a handshake or something. I raised an eyebrow while maintaining my scowl.

"Yeah. So, where's 'home' exactly?" I replied, trying to snake my hand out of his uncomfortably large one. Sprat shuffled her feet, her hands fluttering uselessly over nothing.

"I have to get back to my people, I'll see you later if you feel worse," Sprat sputtered to Aric, disappearing into the tent before I could get another word out.

Aric looked at me expectantly.

I crossed my arms, and said, "So what's wrong with you. You were having like, a seizure or something last night, and now your fine?" What I really wanted to know was whether or not he was an Everafter. I'd never heard of any preppy, overly excited Everafters from any fairytale.

"Oh, I was just having some heart problems. I, uh, have a condition," he replied, looking nervous. "It's complicated."

_Yeah, buddy, I know_ _all about that word_.

"Whatever. You don't have to tell me anything, I just want to know why you're so 'special'."

He furrowed his brow, shoving his hands in his pockets (designer jeans. Definitely not from around here.)

"Oh, uh. I have a job to do here. I'm sorta part of this group. We've been dormant for a while, but they feel threatened by this war, so they sent me."

Dormant? What are they, the Groundhog Club? I repeated "whatever" and led him away from the medical tent.

The questionnaire from earlier had shut him up, thankfully, so I had to keep looking back to make sure he was still following me. He kept his head down, so I couldn't see his expression, but I got a good view of his dark hair and broad shoulders. What "group" could he be a part of? I'd never heard of a group of non-Everafters that even thought about involving themselves in this war…except for my family of course.

Without really knowing what to do with Aric, I settled for bringing him to the battle hall, where Snow sat at the long mahogany table, alone.

"Hey, Snow," I called out, towing Aric through the doors. He looked dumbfounded by the enormous hall, which wasn't surprising. The size of the place had been tampered with by magic, making it look small on the outside, but _very _large on the inside.

Snow stood and saluted me. Aric tried to salute back, but I elbowed him in the ribs.

"Good thing you're here, Sabrina. We have some news for you."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer; Dear Santa Clause, could you please make me the author of the Sisters Grimm, because I am not right now.**

Chapter 3- Puck Need's Saving

At a time like this, no one expects to hear anything good, so when you hear the words, "_We have news,"_ there's only one thing that runs through your head. And that is…

Oh, crap.

Snow saw my expression, and hurried along to the "news".

"It's nothing terrible, but…you might want to sit down." I grew nervous. The fair princess looked paler than usual, her blue eyes gleaming with something other than magic. She drew in a shaky breath, taking my hands into her own.

"Our inside intelligence says that some of our soldier they had originally believed to be dead are actually being held as prisoners of war."

Blood drained from my face. _ Does that mean…_

"Puck was one of them," Snow whispered. Some part of my mind informed me that I looked stupid, with my mouth hanging open, staring blankly, but I couldn't bring myself to move. My vision swam as Snow continued her explanation, probably hoping to finish before I passed out.

"The Hand released some, with suspended powers, of course. Our agents are trying to free the rest."

"And…where is- he?" I managed to choke out.

"He…he was released with the selected few," Snow replied in a strange voice.

"Then where is he? We can find him can't we?" I said quickly, my sight sharpening with the pending excitement. Snow's crestfallen expression dimmed the warmth of my attitude.

She bit her lip. "I'm so sorry, Sabrina." I pulled my hands out of hers.

"We don't know where he is."

I pressed my fists to my temples, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to comprehend the situation.

"But…we can find him- we _have_ to. He's one of ours. Why isn't everyone out there searching? " My chin trembled in frustration, my eyes brimming with tears. Arich looked away, suddenly very interested in the corner of the room.

Snow gently pulled me back into my seat, giving me a familiar expression, one that meant we had business to take care of, and temper tantrums solved nothing. I nodded and closed my eyes, allowing one tear to escape before wiping it away violently. I stood suddenly, grabbing Arich's shoulder.

"I'll return later to talk to Charming," I growled briskly, turning on my heel.

I heard Snow sigh behind me. "Sabrina?" she said quietly.

"Yes," I replied without facing her.

"We believe that he is one of three that had their memories erased. If he knew…if he remembered, I'm sure he would return. He'd never let anything stand between him and…well…"

My mouth turned up in an ugly snarl. Everyone knew he favored me. Despite his tricks, he was a solid brick wall that stood between me and danger. Snow was just trying to comfort me, but all she did was pour salt on unhealed wounds.

Stomping out of the sturdy wooden building, tugging Arich along with me, I shook my head furiously, as if that could push away all the frustration and confusion.

Clouds the color of dishwater rained fat raindrops on me, soaking my hair and face in that cliché, romance/tragedy movie way. I fell on my knees, letting the mud soak through my pants, as if being closer to the ground would help me come up with a solution. I needed a band of soldiers that knew me, and loved Puck, and would march up to the Scarlett Hand and demand to know where my friend was…so basically I needed a miracle.

I hung my head. Just as the last bit of hope was crawling out of the palms of my hands, and into the ground, I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. The escaping hope halted.

"I'll help you." I turned my head just enough to see Arich's kind expression from the corner of my eye. The hope suddenly started backtracking, right up until it hit my throat, then it stopped and formed a lump there.

"You don't know what you're saying," I said hoarsely, suffocating at the thought of never finding Puck.

"Yes I do, trust me; this is what I'm here for. I'm supposed to help you," he replied, crouching down beside me.

I brought my arms around myself, shivering against the freezing rain.

"How will we find him? He might not even remember me. We might as well just lay down our weapons, and we can all become the Hand's prisoners." I hunched over with those words, suddenly feeling sick.

Where had this desire to surrender come from? Never had I wanted to give up before. The thought that my attempt to avenge Puck had been fruitless this whole time made stomach turn. Arich pulled me to him, and on any normal day I would've stubbornly pushed him away, but I buried my face in his shirt.

I had hardly taken the time to get to know this newcomer, and already he's seen me at my weakest. I should've be furious, but this reminded me of a moment years into the past, when Puck kept me warm in an old barn while I cried over my parent's disappearance. Now it was Puck that needed saving.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer; I am totally totally totally totally totally NOT the author of the Sisters Grimm.**

**A/N; Thank you all for being so patient! I'm surprised at the number of people who not only liked my story, but also put me on their favorite author's list! I will surely be posting more now that I am working on a computer that does not suck.**

**Chapter 5**** Puck is Puck**

I was laying on my cot with my eyes wide open when I heard a knock at my cabin door. I jolted up, reflexively wiping at the already dried tears on my face.

Rushing across the room to grab my sweater and dagger, I called to the door,

"Come in."

Arich's jubilant face appeared to my left. I jumped at his sudden closeness.

"Sorry," he said hurriedly, but couldn't seem to remove the smile from his face.

"What are you so happy about?" I said awkwardly, still a little nervous around him after being such a crybaby in front of him last night.

He only grinned wider. "I heard some news from your general. I think there's someone who may be able to help us."

I sighed, my chest tightening with approaching disappointment. I wrestled myself into my sweater and turned to Arich, reluctant to crush his high spirits.

"Look, I know you want to be really optimistic about this, but there really isn't anyone who could help us unless Charming was talking about Puck himself." My throat restricted as I spoke his name. I coughed to cover it up.

"I'm sorry, and I really do appreciate you trying to help. But we may have to just sit and wait." Arich suddenly looked fretful.

"Sit and wait?" he spoke tightly, "All I've heard from you since we met is a constant motivational speech. Albeit, not a very kind speech, but motivational nonetheless." Suddenly, he lowered his face to mine.

"I really thought you were the get up and go type. If this war couldn't bring you down, nothing could." My face reddened, and I lowered my head with shame. Wait…what is this? Some stranger who thinks he knows me? Does he _dare_ accuse me of cowardice? I quickly raised my face to scowl at him.

"You know nothing. I'm going to continue fighting, and I'll do it with or without Puck," choking, "and I don't need you to tell me who I am and what's wrong with me."

I turned away, ready to go somewhere and kill something.

Arich caught my shoulder and turned me around. He was smiling again.

"The general was talking about an Everafter man. He said he was one of the Hand's prisoners." I felt my skin heat up as I realized what Arich was about to tell me.

"This Everafter was put through the same treatment Puck was. He would know where he is." My head felt light. I gripped Arich's shoulders and tried to process this information. My first thought…is it good or bad? Do I want to hear what happened to him? What if he's gone forever? Unfixable. Surely someone could do something to reconstruct his memory. And if not…it doesn't matter. Puck will always be Puck. And I'm going to find him.


End file.
